both　hands　I　turned　the　stiff　door…handle；　which；　for　a　second　or　two；　resisted　my　efforts。　“What　should　I　see　besides　Aunt　Reed　in　the　apartment？—a　man　or　a　woman？”　The　handle　turned；　the　door　unclosed；　and　passing　through　and　curtseying　low；　I　looked　up　at—a　black　pillar！—such；　at　least；　appeared　to　me；　at　first　sight；　the　straight；　narrow；　sable…clad　shape　standing　erect　on　the　rug：　the　grim　face　at　the　top　was　like　a　carved　mask；　placed　above　the　shaft　by　way　of　capital。

Mrs。　Reed　occupied　her　usual　seat　by　the　fireside；　she　made　a　signal　to　me　to　approach；　I　did　so；　and　she　introduced　me　to　the　stony　stranger　with　the　words：　“This　is　the　little　girl　respecting　whom　I　applied　to　you。”

HE；　for　it　was　a　man；　turned　his　head　slowly　towards　where　I　stood；　and　having　examined　me　with　the　two　inquisitive…looking　grey　eyes　which　twinkled　under　a　pair　of　bushy　brows；　said　solemnly；　and　in　a　bass　voice；　“Her　size　is　small：　what　is　her　age？”

“Ten　years。”

“So　much？”　was　the　doubtful　answer；　and　he　prolonged　his　scrutiny　for　some　minutes。　Presently　he　addressed　me—“Your　name；　little　girl？”

“Jane　Eyre；　sir。”

In　uttering　these　words　I　looked　up：　he　seemed　to　me　a　tall　gentleman；　but　then　I　was　very　little；　his　features　were　large；　and　they　and　all　the　lines　of　his　frame　。

“Well；　Jane　Eyre；　and　are　you　a　good　child？”

Impossible　to　reply　to　this　in　the　affirmative：　my　little　world　held　a　contrary　opinion：　I　was　silent。　Mrs。　Reed　answered　for　me　by　an　expressive　shake　of　the　head；　adding　soon；　“Perhaps　the　less　said　on　that　subject　the　better；　Mr。　Brocklehurst。”

“Sorry　indeed　to　hear　it！　she　and　I　must　have　some　talk；”　and　bending　from　the　perpendicular；　he　installed　his　person　in　the　arm…　chair　opposite　Mrs。　Reed’s。　“e